


The Opposite of a Love Story

by jonius_belonius (Joni_Beloni)



Series: Road to Perdition [4]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drama, F/M, Smut, bad behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joni_Beloni/pseuds/jonius_belonius
Summary: Mike and Donna fight it out for Harvey's heart.  How far are they willing to go to win?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FarAwayInWonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/gifts).



> Here ya go, Mo. Finally .... (Damn, was this hard to write.)
> 
> Takes places around the end of S3, beginning of S4-ish, but does not follow the exact timeline of the show. Faint and very brief Mike/Harvey.

The first time Donna showed up at Mike’s door, he was going through his regularly scheduled, bi-monthly drama with Harvey, who was aggressively shunning him for defying his instructions and imprinting on yet another client.   

Mike was also in the middle of packing his things for the move to the Manhattan apartment which would have been his grandmother's, if she was still alive.   

He stared through his peephole, trying and failing to posit a reason why Donna had travelled all the way to Brooklyn to see him.  He opened the door, and she pushed past him, carrying a six pack of beer and a pizza. 

“What?” was all he could manage.  She was the last person he had ever expected to drop by for a visit. 

She ignored the question, set the food and drink on his coffee table and sent him into the kitchen for napkins, which he luckily had not yet packed. 

“I doubt that it escaped your notice,” she said nudging a box out of the way with her foot so that she could squeeze past it and settle next to him on the couch, “that I vehemently opposed Harvey’s decision to hire you.” 

“Vehemently?”  Mike squinted at her, trying to both gauge her sincerity and figure out where this was headed. 

“You heard me.  He’s done some boneheaded shit since I’ve known him, but he outdid himself that day.” 

“Wow.  You're always such an inspiration.  I was sitting here feeling miserable, but you’ve perked me right up.” 

“Have a beer.” 

“I doubt it will be strong enough to make a difference,” he grumbled, but he twisted off the top of a bottle and took a long swallow. 

She drank more slowly from her own bottle, all the while giving him a calculating look.  “Harvey can't stand to look at you at the moment.  Louis creeps you out.  Jessica wants to twist your head off and roast your balls to serve up as hors d'oeuvres at the next partner meeting.  And I just told you I don't want you there.  Why even stick around?” 

“What do you mean?  It’s my dream job.” 

“It’s your one-way ticket to prison when you get caught.  And, yeah, you heard me right:  _when_.”  She peeled a triangle of pizza off of the cardboard box, rearranged the pepperoni slices, and set it back down again.  “It’s because of Harvey, isn’t it?” 

“No,” he scoffed. 

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, because I will not hesitate to call bullshit on your bullshit.”  

“Donna … “ 

“I’ve seen the little hearts dancing in your eyes when you look at him.  I recognize them because I used to look at him the exact same way.  But you can just forget about it.  Harvey is not for you.” 

“You don’t know that.”  He forced the words out with false bravado, even though not so deep down, he believed that she might be right.  Who knew Harvey as well as Donna did?  Then he rewound their conversation, and realized what she had just admitted.  “Wait.  You and Harvey?”  He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, but hearing it confirmed made him feel just that much more the outsider.  “So, did you ever …?” 

She pressed her lips together, as if she did not intend to answer, but surprised him again by admitting, “Just once.” 

“Why just – ” 

“Because he went to work at Pearson Hardman, and asked me to go with him.  Neither of us wanted to complicate things.” 

“You mean, complicate your working relationship, right?” 

She shrugged one shoulder, as if to say he was being obvious. 

“Donna, you’re an awesome assistant.  You could have your pick of law firms.  If you stuck with Harvey, you were choosing your work relationship over anything else you might have had.  That should tell you something.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Uh, yes.  Yes it is.”  He watched her pick a piece of green pepper off of a slice and nibble on it.  “Why are you really here?” 

“Because …”  She scavenged some onion and half a piece of pepperoni.  “After … that person who shall remain nameless …” 

“Stephen Huntley.” 

“Nameless, Mike.  Look it up.”  She rolled her eyes and drank some beer.  “Anyway, after that, I realized that I want to make it work between me and Harvey.” 

The thought of them together made Mike’s chest go tight and achy.  “What does that have to do with me?” 

“I need you to understand that even if he forgives you – ” 

“He will forgive me.  He just needs a little more time.” 

“Maybe.  We’ll see.  But I came here to warn you that even if he does, he’s not for you.  Not like that.” 

“You’re repeating yourself.”  Mike grabbed a slice of pizza and crammed it in his mouth.  He wasn’t hungry, but figured it would give him time to think.  After he had chewed and swallowed, and swabbed grease from his hands and mouth with a wad of napkins, he said, "I know you, and I know Harvey.  If either of you had wanted a relationship, you wouldn't have hesitated to go for it long ago.  Which leads me to conclude that Harvey is not for you."  He raised both eyebrows, daring her to contradict him. 

Anger flashed in her eyes as she stood up to leave.  "This was a friendly visit, to give you fair warning to back the hell off.  Next time, I won't be so friendly." 

 

****** 

 

One week later, Mike felt as if he was walking on air, drifting a few inches above the floor as he got off the elevator and headed to his desk in the bullpen.  Not only had Harvey forgiven him (again), but he'd taken him out for a drink, which had turned into a steak dinner, followed by more drinks, and one sloppy kiss on the sidewalk in front of Mike's new building. 

Donna intercepted him in the hallway, poking the middle of his chest with one finger, again and again, until he was backed up against the wall. 

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," she hissed into his face. 

He may have still been loopy from The Kiss, or he would have thought over his reply more carefully.  "Wouldn't that be you, Lucy?" 

"Excuse me?" 

He pointed at his own head.  "Because of the … you know … the red hair and …"  She was already glaring at him as if she would like to peel the skin from his face, so he risked adding, "and the uncanny resemblance?"  No response.  Not even a blink.  "You're so pretty," he whispered. 

"Oh, for god's sake."  Donna rolled her eyes and turned away, only to spin back again and give his shoulder a rough shove.  "We had an agreement." 

"Uh, no.  I would remember if we did.  I have your non-specific threat hanging over my head, but that's it.  I didn’t agree to anything."  He squinted at her, growing suspicious.  "How do you even know about last night?" 

"Don't change the subject."  She shoved his shoulder again. 

Mike raised a finger in warning.  "Do that again, stalker, and …" 

"And what?"  Another shove.  "You mess with the bull, you get the horns."  _Shove, shove._  

"What does that even – "  Mike slapped her hand, and she slapped his right back.  When Harvey came around the corner, the situation had devolved into a full-blown slap fight. 

"Guys?  What the hell?" 

Mike thrust his hands under his armpits.  Donna cocked her arm, and might have unleashed a mighty smack to his face, but Harvey grabbed her and held her back. 

He looked back and forth between them, brows drawn down.  "My office.  Now." 

"See what you did?" whispered Donna to Mike as Harvey dragged her down the hall. 

"You started it," Mike muttered, but immediately shut up when Harvey glared at him. 

****** 

“One of you had better start talking.”  Harvey turned on his computer and sorted his mail while Mike and Donna sat on his couch, stony gazes focused in opposite directions.  Harvey looked up and sighed.  “Mike, what did you do to Donna?” 

“Me?” he squeaked, leaping to his feet in indignation.  “You’ve got a loose cannon working for you.” 

“Excuse me?” said Harvey and Donna in unison. 

Using his face like a weapon, Harvey first stared down Donna, and then turned an incredulous frown on Mike.  “Would you like to explain that?” 

"She knows about last night.  And … and she has threatened me previously." 

"Threatened you?  For what?  _With_ what?" 

Mike replayed their conversation at his apartment in his head, and sank back down onto the couch.  "She claimed it was a friendly warning, and the consequences were not specified." 

"That doesn't sound so bad." 

"Her hostility was palpable.  You saw her in the hall just now." 

Harvey let out a sigh and turned his attention to Donna.  "What about it?  Did you threaten Mike?" 

She fiddled with the hem of her dress.  "I believe I'll plead the fifth." 

"What about last night?  Were you following us?" 

"I decline to answer on the grounds that –" 

Harvey held up his hand, halting her.  "I'll take that as a yes.  Mike, go ahead and get to work.  Donna and are going to have a private discussion." 

Mike didn't like the sound of that.  Donna was sneering at him, and he sneered right back, holding the eye contact as he left the office, and not breaking it until he nearly backed into Rachel, who was hovering near Donna's desk, clutching a stack of folders, and trying but failing to look inconspicuous. 

"Watch out, klutz," Rachel warned without heat.  "What's going on in there?"  She nodded towards Harvey's office. 

"Donna's having an episode or something.  It's kind of sad." 

"Did you really kiss Harvey last night?" 

Mike's mouth fell open.  "Is there anybody who doesn’t know?" 

"Calm down.  I was on the phone with Donna with it all went down – Harvey's tongue down your throat, that is."  She pulled a comical face. 

"Jesus.  Is she staking out my building?" 

Rachel laughed, and followed Mike as he headed for the bullpen.  "No.  She went over there to talk to you again." 

"Again?  So you know pretty much everything, right?" 

"We are besties." 

"Ugh.  Well, your bestie seems to think she has some kind of prior claim to Harvey." 

"Maybe she does." 

"Why?  Because she called shotgun?  That's just stupid.  She's had years to make her move.  There must be a statute of limitations on that kind of thing."  He narrowed his eyes at her.  "I suppose this means I can't confide in you anymore." 

"Confide all you want.  Don't expect me to keep all of your secrets, though." 

They'd arrived at Mike's desk.  Rachel checked their immediate environs, but it was still early enough that no one else was around yet.   

"I'm curious about something," she said, seeming to be having difficulty making eye contact. 

"Yeah?  What's that?"  Mike dropped onto his chair and turned on his computer. 

"Did you know … I mean when we … " 

"Did I know I liked boys when we went to town on each other in the file room last year?" 

"Keep your voice down.  But, yes, something like that." 

"Of course I did." 

"Huh.  No offense, but that's sort of a shame." 

He gave her a look of mild horror.  "Don't tell me you're throwing your hat in the ring too." 

Leaning on the ledge in front of his desk, Rachel pursed her lips and twisted them.  "I just thought, you know, maybe, we'd get there eventually." 

"Get where?" 

"Dating.  Once I forgave you for your multitude of flaws and obnoxious behavior." 

That stung, but Mike hid his hurt.  "And have you?  Forgiven me, that is." 

"I suppose I have." 

He gave her a smug smile.  "So, are you planning to fight Harvey for me?" 

"Nope.  I have to say though, it finally makes sense." 

"What does?" 

"That weird co-dependent thing you two have going." 

"We don't – " 

"Consider me a neutral observer in all of this." 

"I knew it.  You like to watch." 

Her expression went shifty.  "Well, if you're offering … " 

"Forget it," he growled. 

"Buzzkill."  She teetered off on her stiletto heels to do things paralegal. 

 

****** 

 

Whatever Harvey had said to Donna – and whatever she had said in reply – seemed to have accomplished two things:  she kept her distance from Mike, and so did Harvey, who went so far as to pawn him off on Louis and any other partner requesting his assistance.  All attempts to talk to Harvey had the unfortunate effect of pushing him even further away.  It was as if The Kiss had never happened.   

Mike moped, and stewed, and plotted, and missed two crucial errors on a set of merger documents, which only put another wedge between himself and Harvey. 

Then he actually performed well enough to get a job offer from Jonathan Sidwell.  He was seriously considering taking it.  Doing so would put his life of lies behind him, but it would also put Harvey behind him – and not in the good way he fantasized about all too often. 

He didn't want to put Harvey in the position of either forcing him to stay, or urging him to go.  Mike had to make this decision all on his own, but realized that he needed someone to be a sounding board for his thought and feelings.  He might have asked Rachel, but she'd taken up with some douchey ex-flame of hers named Logan Sanders, and never seemed to have the time anymore for one of their heart-to-hearts. 

Finally, deciding that some out of the box thinking was required, he left work around eight o'clock one night and took a cab to see Donna. 

She answered her door in yoga pants and an Il Divo sweatshirt, holding a glass of white wine, and not appearing at all surprised to see him. 

"Wondered how long it would take you," was all she said as she let him in. 

God, sometimes her line of bullshit was just too much.  "No you didn't.  You don't read minds, and you don't know what I'm thinking or why I'm here." 

"You got a job offer." 

He hadn't told anybody about that yet, not even Harvey.  "Stop doing that." 

"Doing what?" 

"Just …"  He waved his hands around in frustration.  "If you're such an omnipotent, all-knowing being, why are you working as an assistant at a Manhattan law firm?  Why aren't you sniffing hallucinogenic fumes in a cave in Greece and predicting the future or ... or leading your cult to world domination?" 

"Simmer down.  Sidwell's secretary is in my Thursday night hot yoga class." 

"Oh." 

"You want a glass of wine?"  She padded into the kitchen in bare feet, and he noticed how different she looked like this, with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and no makeup.  She looked young, and tired, and unhappy. 

"Um, yeah," he finally remembered to say.  "Whatever you're drinking." 

She poured him a glass, and they sat on her sofa, reminding Mike of the night she had showed up at his place.  He took a sip of pinot grigio, not expecting to like it, but it wasn't half bad.  "What’s up with Harvey?" he blurted. 

She rested her head on the back of the sofa and stared moodily at the ceiling.  “We came to an understanding.” 

When she didn’t say anything more, Mike prompted, “And?” 

“He shot me down flat … or maybe _splat_ would be the more appropriate word.” 

“So … no go?” 

“None.” 

She looked so sad that he felt a little bad about the surge of elation that shot through him at this news.  He kept his voice tentative as he probed, ever so delicately.  “It sounds as if the field is clear.” 

She turned her head to give him a sullen look, and he saw now how puffy and red her eyes were.  “No, the field is not fucking clear.  I warned him if he started up with you, I would go work for Louis.” 

“You’re joking.”  As threats went, it was kind of brilliant.  Mike wondered if the same threat would work for him, and immediately rejected the idea.  He was already spending too much time on Louis's cases as it was. 

Donna drained her wine glass and dangled if from her fingers to the side of the couch.   “I’m not.  Harvey can have Norma.  That would serve him right.” 

“It would also open the door for me.” 

She sighed, turning it into a groan.  “You should take that job.  You’re stupid for wanting to get involved with a co-worker, especially your boss.” 

“You want the same thing.” 

“Exactly.  Because I’m an idiot.  I’m an idiot.  You’re an idiot.  Harvey’s an idiot.  Which one of us, do you think, is the biggest idiot of all?”  She sniffed and turned away. 

 _Good question_.   “Well, if I had to rate us – ” 

“Rhetorical question, genius.”  She went into the kitchen for the half-empty bottle of wine, and settled back down next to Mike.  After drinking from her freshened glass, she was silent for a minute or two, and then said, “Maybe I should cut my losses and get out.  Wakefield Cady has been offering me the HR Director position for months.  More money.  More responsibility.” 

Logically, Mike knew he should encourage her to take it, both for her sake and his, but it didn’t feel right.  “We’re your family,” he said.  As he spoke the words, they cemented his own decision.  He couldn’t leave either. 

She let out a bitter laugh.  “Family, huh?  Yeah, I suppose so.  My real family may have been dysfunctional in its own way, but it doesn’t hold a candle to Pearson Specter.” 

“Would that make me your incorrigible younger brother?  And Harvey the older brother?” 

“Kinky.”  She wasn’t smiling, but something mischievous sparked inside her eyes.  “What are you suggesting?” 

Recognizing the verbal corner into which he’d painted himself, Mike took the coward’s way out and poured them both more wine.  “Bad analogy,” he muttered, and twitched in surprise when she reached over to grab his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” said Donna, “for all that stuff I said that night at your apartment.  I’m glad Harvey hired you.  You’re okay, as it turns out.” 

Her touching sincerity was marred slightly by the way she slurred her words.  On top of that, he could never forget what an accomplished actor she was.  Still, it was nice to hear.  Mike hated it when they fought.  He squeezed her hand.  “I guess you’re okay too.” 

Taking a chance, he leaned in to kiss her cheek.  In that same instant, she turned her head, probably to say something, and his kiss landed on her parted lips. 

“Whoa,” he said, jerking his face back out of lip range, and resisting the instinct to jump to his feet and run for his life.  “Sorry about that.” 

“Why sorry?”  The mischief in Donna’s eyes had shifted to something sultry and smoldering.  Before Mike could think of an answer, or move out of the way, she leaned back in and kissed him with intent. 

Her lips were softer and plusher than Harvey’s, but every bit as assertive.  Their tongues fought briefly for dominance, and he let her win, thinking, _just this once_.  It felt strange, though, to let a woman lead.  Whether strange good, or strange bad, he wasn’t sure, so he allowed her to continue, all the while thinking of Jenny, and Tess and Rachel, and comparing the warm tingle of electricity he was feeling now to the thunder and lightning and _want_ those other women had roused in him. 

When Donna shoved his palm to her breast, he broke the kiss and lifted his head, searching her eyes, checking for lucidity.  “If this is still about Harvey … “ he began, but didn’t dare finish when he saw her sudden annoyance. 

She set his hand away from her and expelled a harsh breath.  “Way to kill the mood.” 

“What mood?  My current mood, in case you care, is surprised and aghast.” 

“Aghast?  Really?  Fuck you.” 

He laughed sharply.  “I’m not opposed.  I’m just … about five miles behind you.” 

“You and every other man on the planet.”  A long pause.  “Maybe you should leave.” 

“No.  I want to understand.  Is this something you’ve actually thought about?  Or is it the wine driving?” 

She turned away, sighing and discreetly knuckling one eye.  “I’m sorry.  I made a mistake.” 

Something was going on here that Mike didn’t comprehend.  “Donna.  Talk to me.”   

She sniffed, and snuck in a quick glug of wine.  “Are you telling me you never thought about it? 

“It?” 

“Us.” 

 _Us?_   He hadn’t, not even the tiniest bit, but he took a few seconds now to do just that, pulling back and examining her, head to toe, and recalling every interaction they’d ever had, including that time in the file room, with Harold outside, and …  “Huh,” he said. 

“What?” 

“I was just remembering the fake blow job of distraction.” 

That brightened her up.  “There you go.  That was kind of hot, right?  Tell me you didn’t replay that scene in your mind a few dozen times.” 

He had, except with Harvey taking the part of Donna.  He couldn’t tell her that, though.  “Absolutely.  And I’ll bet that Harold did as well.” 

“Pfft.  And now he brings up Harold.  Total boner killer.”  She stood up and walked to the door, albeit unsteadily, and held it open.  “Time for all good little boys to go home.” 

Part of Mike (the part between his legs) wanted to argue that he didn’t have to be good, and could, in fact, be quite bad when the situation demanded it.  He could clearly see that Donna had drunk a good deal more wine than he had, and in any case, there was too much on the line, and too much uncertainty floating between them, and swirling around both of their futures at Pearson Specter.   

So he stood up and left.  As he passed her in the doorway, he finally landed a kiss on her cheek.  Finding it damp, he smiled sadly down at her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  “Don’t make any decisions tonight.  Promise?” 

She made a grumbly noise, but gave him a pinched, watery smile and a curt nod.  “I won’t if you won’t.” 

“I won’t.  To be continued?” 

“Sure thing.” 

 

****** 

 

A few weeks went by, and both Mike and Donna remained at the firm.  Mike discussed Sidwell's offer with Harvey, and they both agreed Mike should reject it. 

Then Mike was hauled into the SEC, and when Harvey showed up in full protector mode to get him out, Mike let himself believe that they'd turned a corner, relationship-wise.  Back at the firm, though, Harvey brought up the subject of Sidwell's job offer. 

"Maybe you should take it after all," he said, not looking at Mike, and therefore not seeing the moment that his heart cracked in two. 

"I – " was all Mike managed to get out before his throat tightened.  He was reasonably certain the window of opportunity on Sidwell's offer had already closed and been nailed shut, but he kept that to himself. 

"Take the weekend to think about it." 

Mike nodded and nodded, lips pressed together.  He swallowed several times before working up enough moisture in his mouth to speak.  "Can I at least buy you a drink before we head home?  I know I need one after the last couple of days." 

"No, Mike.  It' not a good idea.  Don't make me list all the reasons why again." 

Mike couldn't recall Harvey listing them a first time, but he supposed the list was implied: they were co-workers.  Donna was opposed.  Mike wasn't Donna.   

And quite possibly, what Mike was beginning to believe was the worst reason of all:  this window had been slammed shut as well, and Harvey simply didn't want him anymore. 

 

****** 

 

Although Mike had moved into the Manhattan apartment several weeks earlier, he hadn't yet bothered to unpack most of his possessions.  He hadn't accumulated all that much over the years, but the boxes holding his things still managed to clog up the place. 

Friday night, after being all but dismissed by Harvey, he sat on the floor with a bottle of top shelf vodka next to him, lifting a wall clock out of one of the boxes, frowning at it, and setting it back into its nest of crumpled newspaper.  He pried out a heavy, dusty vase that Jenny had left behind, considered hurling it against the closest wall, and gently put it back next to the clock. 

He couldn't decide where anything belonged, that was the problem.  Taking a swig from the bottle (not having unearthed any glasses or mugs yet), he muzzily attempted to construct a metaphor – analogy? --  about how he was his belongings, currently in flux, and the newspaper represented … something.  Pearson Specter?  Harvey? 

He drank again, shaking his head.  What did it matter?  "I need to get my shit together," he mumbled sadly.  To his ears, it sounded too familiar, like something he had been telling himself for years.   

He had two choices, and neither sounded appealing or viable.  He could stay, and risk taking the whole firm down with him, or he could quit, thus leaving behind his friends, and the only family he had.  And Harvey.  Especially Harvey. 

He shoved the box away from him and stared around the room, trying to pick out a different box that appeared less daunting.  The arduous decision-making process was interrupted when someone knocked on the door, and he stumbled across the room to answer it.  When he opened it to find Donna outside, he realized how much he had been hoping it was Harvey, coming over to convince him to stay. 

"You again," he said without inflection.  He turned away, not caring if she followed him in or not, and made his way back to the couch and his vodka. 

"How long ago did you move in?" she asked, because of course that was the most important question at the moment. 

Mike sighed.  "Long enough ago that I should be unpacked by now.  I've been a little busy, that's all."  He watched her prowl through his living room, poking into his personal things.  "I suppose I should offer you something to drink." 

"I wouldn't say no to a glass of that vodka." 

"No glasses." 

He handed the bottle up to her and she sipped delicately.  "I would have taken you for a Macallan man."  She sipped again and handed the bottle back to him, swiping a thumb across her lower lip. 

"I'm more than Harvey's clone," he muttered, and closed his eyes.  He heard Donna moving around, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw that she had lifted the wall clock out of the box.  "Hey," he protested weakly, and then watched while she unerringly found the perfect spot for the clock and used the hammer and nail on his kitchen counter to mount it.  He felt himself growing pissed off at her. 

She caught him staring at her, and smiled back at his frown.  "Come on.  If I help you, we can have you unpacked and living like a human being in no time at all." 

"Not sure why I should bother." 

"Oh, I get it.  This was supposed to be a pity party, table for one." 

"No.  Well, maybe a little.  But to be honest, I'm thinking I might have to sell this place.  Real estate is rebounding, and I may or may not be unemployed.  I could use the money." 

“Harvey’s never going to fire you.” 

“He wants me to take the Sidwell job.” 

“Oh.  Are you going to?”  She didn’t sound elated, exactly, but that could be her acting skills at work.  She was probably doing mental cartwheels right now. 

“There was a deadline on the offer which passed two weeks ago.” 

“If you really want the job, you can convince Sidwell.” 

“That’s just it.  I don’t want it.  It sounds even more soul-crushing than being a corporate attorney.” 

“Dream job, huh?  Well, maybe you need to find yourself something in a non-evil field.”  She hefted Jenny’s vase and wrinkled her nose at it.  “Let’s start a ‘give-away’ pile.” 

****** 

All that Mike had to do for the next two hours was nod, and agree, and place things where Donna told him to.  His panda picture went up by the dining table, and his photographs covered the walls in an attractive pattern that made the space suddenly seem more like a home. 

They ordered food, which arrived as the last box was flattened and stacked on the pile.  As they ate, sitting companionably together on the couch, Mike asked, “Did you ever decide about that Wakefield Cady offer?” 

“Nope.  Still to be determined.” 

He poured them both more vodka, and they clinked their glasses together.  “To … “  Mike struggled to think of something worth toasting.   After a few seconds, he shrugged and tossed back the shot. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Donna.  She laughed harshly.  “Maybe we should both leave.  That would show him.” 

“Can you imagine?  He wouldn’t know what to do without us.  He’d be in full panic mode.” 

“We should do it.”  Donna took Mike’s plate from him and stacked it on the coffee table with hers.  She set her hand on his knee and caught him in her gaze.  “Take the Sidwell job.  Convince him to hire you.  You can always go somewhere else, after you pile up some surplus cash.” 

“Maybe.”  Once again, he found himself wondering if she was sincere, or only wanted him out of the way.  “As soon as you hand in your resignation.” 

Her hand hadn’t moved.  Her gaze hadn’t shifted either.  Quirking her mouth to the side, she said, “As petty revenge goes, that’s not bad.  I can think of something much better, though.” 

“Revenge?  Do you really think that's called for?  I was only kidding earlier about us both leaving.” 

“I don't think you were.  You just can't admit to yourself that you and I are the injured parties here.”  She bit her lip, and seemed to be trying to deciding something, or to be working up her nerve to speak.  She gave his knee a squeeze.  “Indulge me for a moment?” 

He was ninety percent certain he knew what she meant, but he tilted his head to the side and asked, “What?” 

She shifted to her knees, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him.  He lay back on the couch, bringing her with him, wrapping his arms around her waist and deepening the kiss.  She made a contented noise in the back of her throat, which for some reason fired him up.  He dug a hand into her hair and tongued all the way back to her tonsils.  He wriggled his other hand up the back of her sweater with the intention of unfastening her bra.  Too clumsy to complete the action, he grew impatient, and yanked her sweater up over her head and off, flinging it across the room. 

Her bra was a light purple color, made of lace and satin.  She raised her head, ending the kiss, breathing hard and watching him to see what he’d do next.  Slow and careful, giving her every opportunity to object, he hooked his fingers in the top of one bra cup, and worked it down, freeing her soft, pale breast.  He cupped it, thumbing the nipple, and she sighed and arched her back.  Encouraged, Mike bent up and licked at her nipple, sucking it between his lips while he freed her other breast and kneaded it gently, loving how soft it was. 

He worked her straps down, and watched as she reached behind herself to on unhook her bra, the movement causing her tits to jut proudly forward.  The bra sailed away somewhere behind her, and Mike fondled both breasts.  He wanted to kiss her again, and she must have wanted the same thing, because she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his.  With his tongue back down her throat, he could both hear and feels her excited moans each time he tweaked a nipple, or rubbed it with his thumb. 

He was lost for a few minutes in the softness of Donna – her soft lips and soft breasts and soft hair brushing across his face and neck.  She smelled like flowers and spice and summer, and he wanted to bury himself inside of her and forget about his job, and Harvey and --  _Harvey._  

Mike turned his head to the side, breathing harshly.  “This is good,” he gasped.  “You feel so fucking good.  But … “ 

She had her hands on the waistband of his jeans.  “Don’t think about him.”  She gave him a smile that was equal parts lascivious and melancholy.  “Unless it helps, of course.” 

He groaned and sat up, forcing her to back up and off of him.  She didn’t bother trying to cover herself, which made it difficult to talk to her, and not to her pretty tits.  “It doesn’t help.  This isn’t about Harvey.  I want you for you but …”  

“But what would Harvey think?” 

“He’ll never forgive us.”  Even as he admitted it, his hands itched to be back on her.  “If we do this,” he said slowly, “we’re crossing a line, and we can never go back.” 

Her eyes telegraphed amusement, and her mouth curved in a scornful line.  “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” 

“I’m not – ” 

“Oh my god, you are.  So very young.  I’m not asking or looking for a lifelong commitment.   I want you to fuck my brains out, and if you don’t believe that the next time we see one another I can act as if nothing happened, you don’t know me at all.  Tell Harvey or don’t, it’s up to you.  But he’ll never know from me if we do this.   And you – you should be used to secrets by now.  This one can’t even get you arrested.  But think how it will feel to look Harvey in the eye and know that you had me – and I had you.” 

“So this is spite sex?” 

She rolled her eyes.  “Jesus, Mike, you could take the fun out of Christmas.” 

“Christmas was never all that fun for me.  And you did mention revenge earlier.” 

"Oh, forget what I said earlier."  She stood up.  Mike thought he’d pissed her off, and that she intended to get dressed and leave, but she held out her hand to him instead. 

“Let’s continue this in the bedroom.  I assume you have a bed?” 

She undressed as she led the way, leaving her shoes and socks in the hallway, and her yoga pants on his bedroom floor.  She climbed into the middle of his unmade bed in just a scrap of purple panties, and knelt there, cupping her breasts and looking so delectable that Mike nearly tripped trying to get out of his jeans.  He felt his phone in his pocket and set it on the bookshelf across from the bed, after which he joined her on the bed in his briefs and pushed her onto her back, replacing her hands with his on her breasts. 

He kissed her, slow and thorough, and rubbed himself against her soft mound, growing hard in record time.  He worked a hand between them and into the front of her panties, surprised to encounter a thatch of hair as he slipped two fingers into her damp, heated folds.  He tangled his fingers in her springy curls, spreading her moisture around.   

He had to see, and pulled the front of her panties down to expose the neatly trimmed vee, now wet with her juices, which did indeed match the hair color on her head. 

“A true ginger,” he murmured, grinning down at her, and then groaned when she reached into his briefs to wrap her hand around his cock. 

She lifted an eyebrow.  “Impressive.” 

They took a moment to quickly divest themselves of their remaining clothes, and then lay on their sides, regarding one another. 

“You ever been blown by a ginger?” asked Donna. 

It was a struggle not to pump his fist in the air at the implication.  “Yes,” he managed to get out, “but he wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as you.” 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?”  Moving more gracefully than anybody had a right to do, Donna slithered down to kneel between his legs, which he spread obligingly.  She gave him a sultry look up the length of his body, and lowered her mouth over the head of his cock.  And went lower.  And lower and –  

“Holy fucking god,” Mike whispered as she engulfed him in one slow, steady movement.  He arched his neck and bit his lip at the feel of her mouth and throat around him.  “You are a confirmed deity,” he gasped, struggling not to thrust up rudely.  Her silky red hair fanned out over his belly and thighs, tickling him when it brushed across him, again and again, as her head rose and fell and she worked his cock like a pro. 

He cradled her head in his palms, losing himself in sensation for a while.  Eventually, he whispered hoarsely, "I'm close." 

She lifted her head, licking her lips.  “Where are your condoms?” 

“Nightstand drawer.” 

"Good.  Stay just like that."  She leaned over to pull the drawer open, pawed around in it and snared a foil-wrapped condom.  Ripping it open with her perfect, white teeth, she crawled back up his body, positioning herself over him while she held his cock and deftly rolled the condom down his length, while he groaned and bit his lip, ordering himself not to come too soon. 

“Don’t move,” she instructed, holding his cock while she guided him into her slick heat, concentration tightening her features.  When her soft bottom rested against him, she let out a long, satisfied moan, which Mike echoed in a deeper register. 

He held her waist, and then slid his hands over her hips before moving them lower to cup her bottom.  "Kiss me," he ordered. 

Donna leaned down, breasts smashed against his chest, and pressed her lips to his, tonguing into him as he snapped his hips, thrusting into her in quick, hard stabs.  Ending the kiss, Donna gazed down at him, an enigmatic smile curving her lips.  "Give me your hand," she ordered. 

He brought one hand from behind her and she took possession of it, folding down all but two fingers and pushing them inside of her, beside his cock, riding them both, circling her hips in tight movements as if searching for just … the right … spot.   He could see she'd found it when she gave a quick inhale and her eyes rolled back and then shut.  Her movements became smaller, more focused, and more frantic. 

"Uh," she grunted.  "Shit.  That's good.  So close.  I'm gonna … "  She panted and ground down on him, bathing his finger in her juices.  Her forehead creased as she concentrated on chasing her own pleasure. 

Deciding he needed to participate more actively, Mike crooked his fingers to stroke her, but she groaned in frustration and glared down at him. 

"I was right there, you asshole," she gritted out.  "Who told you to move?" 

Mike gave a disbelieving laugh.  "Wow.  I've got a selection of dildos and vibes in the nightstand, if you prefer an inantimate object.  Otherwise, I'd kind of like to get there with you." 

She let go of his hand and leaned down to give him a quick kiss.  Close up, he could see the perspiration sheening her face.  "I know," she panted.  "It's just … I'm a complicated piece of equipment."  She braced her hands on his chest and sat back.  "Let me have my way with you for a few minutes.  You won't regret it." 

She'd never steered him wrong before.  Well, not often.  She sounded confident of her skills, so he relaxed back against the pillows. 

"Hold onto the headboard," she instructed.  He reached back and wrapped his fingers around the bottom edge of the wooden rectangle.  Donna eyed his arms and shoulders and chest.  "Damn," she said, eyes sparkling, "you look good like that." 

He started to laugh, but immediately shut up when she began to move again, holding his shoulders and rolling her hips in thrusts that started out jerky and erratic but quickly shifted to a strong, vigorous rhythm.  Donna's hands slid to Mike's chest, and she straightened her arms so that she was almost sitting up.  Her tits jiggled as she rode him, and his hands itched to touch her.  Her hair streamed down her back and hung around her face in damp tendrils. 

She shifted her angle and sped up, and Mike clutched the headboard as pleasure built and built.  He was watching her face, and saw the moment when her expression went slack and her mouth fell open.  She arched her neck as her pelvis jerked convulsively and she let out a series of trembling moans that rose and fell and rose to a hoarse scream.  Finally, having evidently peaked, she fell against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as tiny tremors continued to shake her.  He could feel her heart racing in her chest. 

Mike released the headboard and held her until she was still.  Still buried inside of her, he wound a leg behind her and flipped her onto her back, pushing up to gaze down into her face.  “My turn,” he whispered, and lifted first one, and then the other of her legs over his shoulders, finding her pliant and flexible as he bent her nearly in half.   

He pulled halfway out, and plunged back in, setting up a steady thrusting rhythm, and knowing he wouldn’t last long.  The way he’d positioned Donna, she couldn’t do much besides take the pounding he gave her.  The slap of their damp bodies together filled the room, along with his panting breaths, her soft squeals and murmurs of encouragement, and the thud of the bed against the wall.   

He was determined to send her over the edge again before he came, and he knew he’d accomplished his goal when she gave a full-throated scream and arched her back as her legs flopped in the air.  Mike clutched her bottom in both hands and slammed home half a dozen more times before he came, yelling wordlessly as white-hot pleasure engulfed him. 

He felt Donna’s legs slide off his shoulders and onto the bed.  He panted into her neck, holding her tightly around the waist, not wanting to let go and let this perfect moment dissolve, not wanting reality to rush back in just yet. 

Donna sighed and shifted restlessly, so Mike reluctantly lifted off her, pulled out and rolled onto his back. 

“That was amazing,” said Donna, and kissed his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he replied, already thinking, _but w_ _hat now_? 

 

****** 

  

Mike had wondered if Donna might spend the night, but when he returned from the bathroom, he found her clothed, holding her shoes, and heading for the door. 

Naked, he stood by with his arms crossed and watched her put her shoes on.  “So, that’s it, huh?  Just a quick fuck and you’re on your way?” 

She got her second sneaker on and looked around for her purse.  “What did you expect?  You and me?  Get real.  We’re not the love story.” 

“Why not?" he asked, not really meaning it.  "We’re good together.  Frenemies to friends to lovers:  that’s a pretty good story arc, don’t you think?  And Harvey doesn’t want either of us.  This is a chance to turn the story on its head.  You know … _twist_.” 

She shook her head, smiling sadly with one hand on the door knob.  “Sorry, but I’m holding out for Harvey.  I have a few tricks left, and I still want him.  Maybe you do too, but you’ll never have him, because if you make one move towards him, I’ll tell him every detail about what just went on tonight, and believe me when I say you won’t come out well in the telling.” 

He could only stare stupidly at her, feeling as if she had just punched him in the gut – or perhaps a few inches lower.  “Donna … you’re … “  He searched for the right adjective.  _Diabolical?  Horrifying?_ _Impressively_ _Machiavellian?_ “Maybe I’ll tell him anyway.  Blow up your chances with him too.” 

“A little mutually assured destruction?”  She smiled meanly.  “Is that what you think?  Go ahead.  I dare you.  See who he sides with.” 

Mike shook his head.  “He’ll see this as a betrayal from both of us.” 

“Not after I get done spinning my side of the story for him.  Harvey may have received a master class from Cameron Dennis on how to manipulate people and win at any cost, but I was right there with him, learning the same things.  Not that I needed much help in that area.  I’m pretty much the expert, and always will be. 

“Go toe to toe with me if you must,” she continued, “but you’ll never win.  I’ve worked out all of the possible scenarios, and Harvey picks me every time.  Tell him what happened here tonight, and if you decide to leave, you can forget about any future referrals.  Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned you in, tipped off Sean Cahill, and washed his hands of you for good.  Oh, don’t look so shocked.  I promise I won’t say anything if you don’t.”  She blew him a kiss, eyes glinting with malice, and opened the door.  “But thanks for the fuck, kiddo.  Solid six out of ten.” 

And then she was out the door and gone. 

Mike stared at the closed door for long minutes, hands curling into fists.  When he unfroze, he found Jenny’s vase, and this time he did hurl it against the front door.  The damn thing didn’t have the good taste to shatter, but instead left a splintery dent in the door and scraped off a patch of paint. 

As the vase wobbled across the floor towards him, he pushed back his anger.  This changed nothing, really, this interlude.  She was right, after all.  Mike could keep a secret.  And as much as she believed she could convince Harvey that all the blame lay with Mike, he knew Harvey.  He’d blame them both. 

No, better that he never found out.   

Too bad, Mike reflected, as he played back the last hour in his mind.  He wouldn’t mind having another go at Donna.  She was every bit as wild in bed as he’d imagined she would be.  It would have been fun trying to tame her. 

He walked back into the bedroom, scratching his stomach, and retrieved his phone from where he’d propped it on the bookshelf while Donna’s back had been turned.  Unlocking the screen, he tapped it several times, and watched a few seconds of the video of himself and Donna on the bed.  Then he fast-forwarded to her parting threats.  She was out of the shot by then, but her words came through loud and clear. 

Let her spin it however she wanted with Harvey.  Mike held the winning hand this time, and if she went back on her promise, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. 

 

 **The End.**  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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